We nod and agree that the Emperor
Is wearing exquisite clothes.
The best clothes.
He’s the most fashionable Emperor
We’ve ever been blessed with.
We love him.
We nod, and agree that if we are poor
It is our fault for not trying harder.
The Emperor says we would all be wealthy
If we weren’t so lazy.
When we die on waiting lists
Die on trolleys outside A&E
Die because the drugs are too expensive
For the likes of us, we nod, and agree
That the Emperor is not to blame.
We should have chosen healthier lifestyles.
When our children are driven to suicide
By the Emperor’s new exam strategy
And those who survive can’t find work enough
To live on and will never own homes
We nod, and agree when the Emperor says
It is because of foreign people.
The Emperor’s new Brexit is going well
These are the sunny uplands and if
We aren’t living the dream, we have
Only ourselves to blame – that and the Remoaners
Who ruin it all with their negativity.
We nod, and agree that it is their fault, and our fault.
The Emperor cannot be blamed if we refuse
To fulfil our true potential.
Where is our heroic urge to die trying?
Why do we not sacrifice ourselves
For the greater good? It is such a small thing to ask.
The Emperor stands before us in his
Staggeringly expensive and truly impressive new clothes
And tells us to try harder. We nod and agree.
What do we know?
No one wants to admit they can’t see his remarkable suit
Can see his sagging Y fronts while everyone else
Sees what they are told to see.
We dare not, must not say we have wondered
If the Emperor knows full well he stands before us
In just his pants while his propaganda squad
Fawn over the elegant cut of his fictional suit.
We’ve all seen him smiling.
What if the Emperor knows full well
He has no clothes on
But if we nod and agree with this
We’ll nod and agree with anything
We don’t want to look like fools or failures.
Nod and agree, suffer willingly
Work harder for our most beloved Emperor
In his oh so beautiful new clothes.